Whenever I tell people I’m writing a novel, they inevitably want to know when I will finish it; I hope this is because they’d like to read it, but I can’t speak for them, of course. Frankly, I’d like to know when I will finish it, too. I have 100 pages that are almost good enough, in my opinion, to send out for critiques. The first three chapters, in other words, although it may turn out to be four, depending on the story flow.
I am under the thumb of my own perfectionism. I can’t help but try to make it as readable and believable as I possibly can. I run across poor word choices, too many adverbs, repeated words, repeated phrases, continuity errors, et cetera et cetera ad fucking nauseam. I work almost every night after my family goes to bed, and I still don’t have the first three chapters.
However. Once I’ve sent those chapters out, I’ll take all the critiques I receive and put them in a separate file that I won’t even look at until much, much later. That will be a big help, I’m sure.
I’ve told one of my friends I’ll have the manuscript finished by the end of the year. The calendar, evil bastard that it is, tells me that this is eight weeks away. Yeah... no, don’t see it happening.
Given the time it takes for agents to read and reject or otherwise respond to queries, not to mention the lengthy process of publication if a house decides to buy the book, I suspect I’ll be working my day job for at least another two years. Which means that I have to deal with the causes of my procrastination there.
What it comes down to is that I’m not comfortable offering criticism to some of the managers here. Unfortunately one of those managers is my boss, whom, owing to circumstances beyond my control, I have to audit at least twice a year. Reporting nonconformances to her is a huge pain in the ass, and it makes me want to dig a very deep hole and hide away in it until the nonconformances go away.
This approach has not worked.
So I’ve been considering the feasibility of bringing up my discomfort with her and trying to improve our relationship. When I suggested this at the dinner table last night, I knew how absurd the idea was as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I'm going to change my boss or her attitude; that’s a fact. What I can change is my own approach to those uncomfortable situations.
Before I even began to articulate this line of reasoning out loud, my daughter piped up.
“Mom, you just have to remember three things. No, four. First, be polite. Second, talk slowly so they can understand you. Third, talk about important things, because that’s what people want to talk about when they’re at work. Fourth, be serious about it, because that’s how people act when they’re at work.”
Did I mention that she’s seven?
She had pegged my three main failings and told me how to correct them. When I’m talking to management about what they’ve fucked up, I tend to speak quickly to get it over with. I sometimes lump trivial stuff in with the important things. And I very often try to lighten the mood and come off as not-so-serious to avoid putting the other person on the defensive.
This takes a lot of time and energy. It’s a waste.
So I’m going to follow her advice. I’m going to be polite (I always am anyway, at least in these situations), I will speak slowly, I will focus on important things, and I will take them seriously. Because it’s my job, and as long as I’m here, I might as well do it right.
And if they don’t like it, they can kiss my ass.
